A Challenge, a Journey, a Tale of Dragons
by Drakoleses
Summary: an unlikely dragon tamer accepts the pokemon league challenge under unusual circumstances. Pre-RBY. influenced by Rockets and in love with a certain gym leader it's no wonder that the protagonist is so confused.


**Author's Note: Hey, just want to thank everyone who bothered to check this story out. Basically, this first chapter is the backdrop for the next chapter, which will be posted provided I get feedback urging me to continue. I really would appreciate feedback; just a 'good, please continue' or a 'hated it, work on this...' will suffice. I need to know if I should scrap this! Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon, or any familiar characters you might recognize. As of right now I only own myself, my car, and this crazy character called Drako!**

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A Challenge Issued: How My Journey Was Made Possible

It is a cold winter's night and I am stirred from sleep by creaking noises emanating from downstairs. Groggily I open my eyes, wiping from them the sleep that still lingers. I blink several times all the while sorely temped to shut my eyes, pull the sheets over my head, and soundly answer the call of sleep who beckons me. With a sigh I resist the temptation of slumber, knowing full well that the wonderful dream I had been dreaming only moments before would not wait for me if I were to try to return; I've never been able to return to the pleasant dreams after waking, only the nightmares.

I hear the pitter patter of feet from below as well as what sounds like voices speaking in low, hushed tones. My mind is racing and my body is tense, every cell is on edge in anxiety. Robbers! I think to myself. Mother isn't due to get off duty until dawn and Lance, only heaven knows where he is, and now I'm up here with a band of thieves in our home without even a pokémon for protection!

These thoughts in mind I let instinct take over as I jump out of bed, feel around for the flashlight on the nightstand, turn it on a dim setting and search around for any kind of weapon this room might magically provide me. After a few frantic seconds I am opening my bedroom door armed with my flashlight in one hand, my pocketknife in the other, all the while praying for the courage to stab someone with it in the next few moments if need be.

The scuffling of the band of robbers is still audible as are their whispering voices. Rage and indignation well up inside of me, just the very thought of thieves in _our_ home riles me into a state of fury almost impossible to describe.

I charge down the staircase screaming like a wild animal, my blade held high above my head, hoping that I look and sound more menacing than the trembling creature who leaped out of my bed moments before. With the aid of my flashlight I see a burly imposing figure at the threshold of the front door of my home just below me. His eyes widen in surprise as I shine the beam of light in his face, jump onto the banister, throw the flashlight at him, and then leap down at him myself, knife in hand, all the while screaming.

"THEIF!" I cry as the blade is wretched out of my grasp and pressed up against my throat.

"Don't move another muscle, assassin!" booms the giant. "Or I'll slit your throat here and now in the presence of my sister! Now tell me, who sent you?!"

We are both startled by the sudden change in lighting as someone flips the switch to the room's electric lights.

My eyes have adjusted to the light and I see the image of my mother in her starched white uniform, her face as red as her hair. "DRAKE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" she screams. "PUT THAT KNIFE AWAY!"

The giant and I exchange glances of confusion to one another but he doesn't flinch at my mother's words. The knife still at my throat, he calmly asks my mother, "You know this hooligan, Joy?"

A look of puzzlement crosses her face for a moment before she responds, "Yes Drake, don't you remember my youngest child, Drako?" She looks at us both expectantly.

The man lowers the knife from my throat and we both turn to stare at my mother for a moment before he gruffly answers. "Vaguely. Now I don't mean to criticize how you raise your children; that's entirely your business. However, I must ask if it is a common practice in your household for your children to attack relatives with…rabbit-slayers?"

My mother stares at him, disbelief and wonder in her eyes, before narrowing her eyes and turning her baleful glance to me. "No Drake. That is not how my children were raised. Would you care to explain yourself, Drakoleses?"

I couldn't be any more embarrassed than at this moment in time. I first look to my petite yet livid mother and then to the giant Uncle Drake in mortification. I attacked my uncle! How could I possibly explain _that_?

"Well….um…" I look into first her eyes then his. "I thought he was a band of robbers!" I blurt out, my voice wavering, no longer the bold voice of one trying to scare away thieves in the night.

My mother simply stares at me in bewilderment as if I had just said that I thought Uncle Drake was a wild Arbok with three heads. I avert my gaze and stare intently at my bare feet on the tiled floor, suddenly aware of ridiculous I must look to them, standing here in my boxer shorts and an old shirt of Lance's, ready to recount how I was going to attack a band of thieves with a flashlight and a pocketknife…

Suddenly I hear my uncle chuckling and I look up to see the serious sea caption whom I've heard so much about grinning from ear to ear, his chuckles turning into bellows of laughter.

"You—going to—attack—with _this_?" He wheezes, holding up the small blade for my mother to admire. Now he's thumping me on the back, roaring with laughter, staring at both my mother and I as if either we had gone stark mad or he had. Laughter is pretty contagious stuff and now even my mother is smiling.

In a more gracious mood my mother plays the charming hostess asking, "Would you like something to drink, Drake?"

The elderly gentleman's smile quickly vanishes although his eyes are still dancing with mirth and he nods curtly and flatly replies, "Milk, warm, if you have it", assuming a more solemn tone.

My mother acknowledges this change and wearily sighs a sigh that seems to start at her ears and end at her toes before shortly replying, "I'll heat us up a pot, then", and she disappears into the kitchen with my uncle and I following behind.

Uncle Drake and I are sitting around the small kitchen table, he at the right of the head of table as is customary and I at his right. We sit in silence as my mother sets a pot of milk on the stove to heat.

"So," she starts brusquely, "I take it you are not here at this hour for warm milk nor or you here out of genuine concern for our wellbeing."

A moment of silence elapses before estranged Uncle Drake of Hoenn replies in a soft, quiet voice, "No, neither are the reason I am here, sister." He looks at her with almost pleading eyes before starting up again. "I am here about your son, Lance. I have great news that he is privy to and as soon as I was informed…This could not wait."

My mother, her voice cracking replies, "Lance is not here at the moment and I am not entirely sure that I appreciate this, you showing up at the pokémon center out of the wide, blue sky after all of these years with this 'great news' business." Her eyes flash with anger as she continues, "Does Father even know you're here? He would not approve if he knew--"

"—If he knew what, Joy?! That his mongrel son came back to dissuade the remaining members of the Dragon Clan? That the son he cannot bear to mention, who passed that blasted test before his very eyes and left this stifling city-," he snorts with contempt, his voice rising, "he would not approve if he knew that the son he so disowns was going to break the cycle of the Dragon Clan and encourage the others--"

"Encourage the others to do what, Drake?" snarls my mother, "To be 'free' like you? To wander aimlessly around the globe earning a living by battling pokémon against each other with dreams and ideals of becoming a 'pokémon master?!'"

Uncle Drake is silent. I wish that I were anywhere but here, listening to this conversation. The tension in the room is so thin you could cut it with a knife.

The milk on the stove is at a rolling boil and milk splashes onto the stovetop, steam hisses and rises above. Mother looks down into the pot, only now aware of the mess the boiling milk is making, only now aware that I am still here in the room. She turns down the burner's heat and stares dead at me as she lowers her voice, "Well, I'm sorry that I've raised my children to be bright, obedient, concerned individuals who would never cause their mother such pain--"

"Pain?! Yes, you are one to talk about pain, aren't you? I wasn't the only one who hurt Father, you know? You should be sorry! I see you haven't even allowed this one to train pokémon! Your youngest child resorting to stabbing perceived robbers with blades shorter than my finger, yes that's really something to be proud of!" he shouts.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" screams my mother, "You haven't seen the triage I've seen, the casualties, the hurt, suffering pokémon that are on the brink of death when they enter my pokémon center, and the tearful yet thoughtful novice trainers, some of them from other parts of the region even, who wanted some fun in pitting them against the pokémon of seasoned gym trainers like Lance! It breaks my heart, Drake!" and with that she pours some of the hot milk into a bowl and serves him, slamming it onto the table in front of him.

"And Drako doesn't need pokémon!" she continues, "Drako is going to be a doctor someday, the best damn doctor in all of Johto!" I feel Uncle Drake's gaze on me as if he is seeing me for the first time in his life.

"Why, Joy?" he asks her, "Why do you allow Lance to train pokémon but not Drako?"

She seems taken aback by the question and it is awhile before she answers. "It was Father's idea, actually, to give Lance his first pokémon and guide him as a trainer. Father wasn't sure who would continue the legacy of the Dragon Clan, Lance or Clair, so he decided that the both of them would be fine candidates for the gym."

"I do not know why he would insist the same upon Drako as well but he never has and so the subject has never come up" she finishes lamely.

I can't believe my ears! I've never heard my mother tell an outright lie before and I cannot recall a time in which she cursed and yelled at someone with such force. But to tell an outright lie, to stand there and calmly tell Uncle Drake that the subject never came up! To act as if the thought of allowing me to train pokémon had never crossed her mind! After all the pleading, and reasoning, and even begging that I'd done, asking that I might have pokémon too! It blows my mind!

I can see that Uncle Drake is unmoved and unconvinced. Where is Lance, anyways? What is this urgent news for him? And why won't mother tell Uncle Drake that Lance is probably at the gym? Why doesn't she want him to speak to Lance? I sigh, thinking I already know the answer.

She thinks that Uncle Drake will, in some way, form, or fashion, convince Lance to train abroad and leave Blackthorn City. And she would do almost anything to shelter her perfect son from the danger, misery, and cruelties that life experience has taught her lies beyond the city gates. Almost anything.

Well, if she's not telling him where Lance is then I might as well. It looks as if Uncle Drake intends on making himself comfortable in our home for as long as he has to anyways.

"Uncle Drake?" I start but am interrupted by the jingle of house keys at the front door. In a few moments Lance is here in the kitchen, smiling at us all and bowing respectfully to Uncle Drake before moving to shake his hand in formal greeting.

Uncle Drake, the nefarious sea captain who left home over thirty years ago, gets to his feet and shakes Lance's hand as if they are old friends who haven't seen each other in ages. They probably haven't seen each other in ages. I can't even remember the last time I saw him in person; it was so far back, years really.

"Hello, Lance! Good to see you!" says Uncle Drake cheerily, as if he and mother hadn't just been involved in a heated argument with one another.

"And you as well, Captain", replies Lance. "What brings you here at this time of night?" he asks, all the while helping himself to a bowl of warm milk.

The captain waits for Lance to seat himself at my right, mother's left, facing him, before he replies. He makes a show of clearing his throat before beginning.

"I have some disturbing news from the Pokémon League," he states gravely. Then in an excited rush he plunges on to the point of his visit. "It's actually rather terrific news, really, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The League branch of Tojo has fallen into a pit of debt, which it cannot get out of without a significant increase in funds within the next few years or so. It has been estimated that, with so few dedicated trainers in the region willing to battle the Elite Four, or even battle each other for that matter due to outrageous charges by pokémon centers, that the State will go into a recession if something isn't done about it."

"Also for some unknown reason, wild pokémon have been overpopulating their natural habitats and have begun to even nest in some of the smaller cities; it's all getting to the point where the State cannot simply hire trainers to catch the wild pokémon anymore."

"Fewer people are willing to earn a trainer's living and even bother to get trainers' licenses anymore, so the League has come up with a grand-fire solution to the problem that will save the State from ruination." I can tell that the captain is excited now. He takes in a deep breath before continuing.

"The League has decided to issue a grand challenge to all pokémon trainers in the regions of Kanto that fall under the Indigo Plateau's jurisdiction in approximately a year's time."

Lance looks ready to argue something before Uncle Drake stops him, "Yes, I know, Blackthorn falls under the region of Johto, just hear me out."

"Anyway, in a year's time this challenge will be issued, a challenge for Kanto's greatest trainers to assemble their finest teams of no more than six pokémon to battle the supposed greatest trainers in the world, the Elite Four, for the title of League Champion."

"I know, this setup is nothing new. Why would a bunch of trainers try and kill themselves and their pokémon for the stupid title that has been around since the beginning of time? Well, this time there's going to be new perks to being a pokémon trainer and the challenge is going to have a fresh new feel to it."

"This time," he grins, "The League is getting rid of all the old has-beens such as myself and replacing them with younger, more powerful trainers, trainers such as yourself whom the entire youth of Kanto will envy!"

"Invitations are being sent to all leaders of sanctioned gyms on the Tojo Continent inviting them to challenge the Kanto's current Elite Four for the positions. After Kanto's new Elite are chosen, a challenge will be issued calling all pokémon trainers to take on Kanto's sanctioned pokémon gyms. The gyms once autonomous will have to fight new challengers due to League rules and their leaders will have to give emblems or badges to those who best them in battle or to those whom they deem worthy."

"Once a trainer obtains a certain number of gym badges he or she will be eligible to battle the Elite Four for the title. Again, I know, nothing new. However, back to the perks I mentioned earlier. The League has decided to lower the age of requirement for new pokémon trainers to age ten. Young, but the State is doubtful that parents would allow their young children to travel about Kanto anyway; they lowered the age so that they could appeal to a younger audience."

"In short, the State has practically mandated that pokémon become a subject of popularity once again. If pokémon trainers are viewed with as much awe and appreciation as pop stars and film actors then in time every ten year old in the region is going to want their parents to put down the money for a trainer's license."

"And that," he sighs, "is exactly the kind of fresh money that the State needs right now. Everyone is so fed up with the taxes running sky-high…If this circus proposal does well in Kanto soon all the regions will undergo similar changes and everyone will be able to rest a little easier."

Lance, mother and I, we can only sit in silent awe at the League's boldness as we listen to Uncle Drake recount the drastic changes that are to be taking place in the world soon. Why, they're proposing a pokémon revolution!

"So you came all the way here to tell us _that_?" my mother scoffs. "Why, you acted as if it were urgent news of the most dire importance!" But despite her words I cannot help but notice that her skin has blanched an unearthly color of pale and that her hands are trembling almost, almost as if she is frightened by this proposal.

"It is," the elderly man insists, taking no notice of my mother's change. "I have come here to give Lance his letter of invitation in person and to persuade him to answer the challenge." He turns back to Lance now, looking at him intently.

"Lance, I urge you to take the challenge, to spend some time abroad with your pokémon for the next year, develop strong bonds with each of them, and then battle Kanto's current Elite Four when you think you're ready."

Lance takes all of this in with a solemn expression on his face. He only nods gravely to Uncle Drake in reply before turning to mother with a softer expression of compassion.

"Lance, you aren't considering this preposterous challenge, are you?" she asks him almost timidly, almost frightened-like.

"Yes, I am," he responds. "Now don't start, mother. I think…that if what the captain says is true…then we should all begin to be prepared to make major adjustments in our lives. Now I can't help but feel as if there really is more to life than a simple existence as a local gym leader here in Blackthorn, that there is more bonding that I could do with my pokémon than that which takes place in the Dragons' Den."

Mother looks as if she's about to either faint dead away in her seat or kill Uncle Drake, one of the two. Lance pats her hand with his own as he smiles at her, trying to reassure her that everything will be alright, that the world will not come to an end now that he has said his peace, that the world will continue once he decides to leave her home, that he will always be her son and she his mother no matter what.

She feebly protests. "But Lance dear! Where will you go? Where will you sleep? How will you pay for food and clothing and everything else?" She meekly raises her objections, her voice cracking, eyes glistening with tears as she already admits to herself that this is for real, that her firstborn child is preparing to leave her, the eighteen year old that he is.

"Mother, you should get ready for some changes in your life as well," he replies. "With this new pokémon craze soon the State will have to do something about the pokémon centers, build new ones, remodel and refurbish the ones already open, will have to somehow make pokémon treatment more affordable to the public, hell maybe even free of charge if we're lucky!"

She cries silently in her mind, her entire world crashing down upon her, and on the outside sighs a sigh of resignation as if to say, 'I'm weary of debating this; it'll leave off until tomorrow'.

What she really says is this, "Alright then, Lance. Fine." and she now turns her attention to her elder brother and wryly asks, "So are you spiriting him away tonight on that blasted boat of yours, brother?" To which he replies, "No sister, not on the blasted boat. Nor tonight either," he adds. "I want your children to answer the challenge when _they _are ready to and not a moment before."

My eyes widen in surprise at the mention of the words 'your children' meaning plural, and 'they' also including myself. I only hope that the words were not used out of haste.

My mother nods in acknowledgement before asking Uncle Drake how long he plans to stay in the city to which he gruffly replies, "Not long, maybe just long enough to finish up that pot of milk and be heading on my way now that I've said what I've come here to say."

She retires to her room, weary from the night's events. Lance and I remain in the kitchen with Uncle Drake in order to see him off. We wait expectantly as he downs the last of the warm milk.

"How would you like to battle?" he asks suddenly.

A moment of silence elapses before Lance respectfully replies, "I would like to do so very much, captain."

Another moment of silence elapses and I suddenly realize that the captain is staring expectantly at me, waiting for an answer.

"M..me, sir? I don't have pokémon; I can't battle!"

His menacing glare sends ice-cold shivers down my spine as he coolly says, "I didn't ask you if you had pokémon, assassin. I asked you if you would like to battle".

Of course I want to battle! I want to scream. I want to be able to train pokémon just like Lance but I can't! But I answer him defiant-like, raising my chin up high, my eyes meeting his dark, distant ones simply stating, "Yes, Captain. I would like to battle as well".

The estranged Uncle Drake smiles a dragon-like grin that stretches from ear to ear as he says, "Alright, then. Let us go outside for some fresh air and see which is made of sterner stuff."

Lance and I share glances of confusion, not really understanding what it is this crazy sea captain is about, but we obey and lead him out the front door into the chilly night air, me in my boxer shorts with me bare feet and Lance the only one of us quick enough to grab a jacket on our way out.

"Alright, Gym Leader. You first," states the captain. "How does a three on three battle sound to you?"

"It seems fair enough to me," Lance replies.

"Alright, then." Uncle Drake takes a pokéball from his belt and tosses it into the air shouting, "Go Shelgon!" And with a flash of light his pokémon is summoned.

Hesitant, Lance glances at me and then back to the captain before shouting over the howling wind, "I don't there's space enough to battle here, sir! And even if there were, we'd wake the entire neighborhood with this battle!"

The captain nods in agreement before bellowing, "Agreed! We should go to the Dragon's Den; we shouldn't be a-bothering anyone in there!"

Lance looks satisfied with this arrangement and turns to me, "Drako," he says, "Why don't you go on inside? It's pretty cold out and this could take a while…and I don't think it would be proper for you to go with us into the Dragon's Den." He smiles at me, "You understand, right?"

I can only smile back at him before replying, "Yes, I understand. I understand perfectly". And with that, he leads me back inside, despite Uncle Drake's almost-promise of a battle. I look out the window and watch them as they walk out of sight, Lance, Uncle Drake, and Uncle Drake's Shelgon.

I understand perfectly. I'm not a dragon user…I wouldn't be allowed in. I retire to my room and try to keep myself occupied; I must do anything but shut my eyes. I want to stay up and find out who the victor will be. Must stay awake! Must not close my eyes…

I am awaken for the second time tonight by an alarming creaking sound, this one much less subtle than the last. The slam of a door and the sounds of heavy footsteps racing up the stairway follow it.

Knuckles are rapping smartly on my bedroom door and I, now fully awake and alert, make haste to find out what the trouble is only to see Uncle Drake imposing on the threshold. "I was wondering if you would feel up to exchanging a few words before I leave, assassin," he inquires. "Unless you'd rather go on to sleep, if so I understa--"

"No! No, that's fine. What's up?" The captain raises his eyebrows before clearing his throat and responding half-dazed "What is up? What is up is this: the world needs pokémon trainers and you need pokémon. It is that simple, really. Now I'm prepared to take you to Hoenn with me, assassin—take you to an old professor friend of mine, and get you a starter pokémon; if we leave now--"

"Leave now!?" I interrupt. "But sir, I have to be at school in the morning! I can't just go off to Hoenn!" I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth and I bite down on my tongue to keep from embarrassing myself further in front of this renowned uncle.

He frowns and narrows his eyes at me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…School, eh? Yes, your mother would have drilled the importance of an education into your head, wouldn't she? Well, I see her point. No sense in having idiot teenagers running around with pokémon. It was different when I left home, I was older, already had myself as fine an education as I could've hoped for."

"What time does school let out, assassin?" he asks suddenly.

"The school year doesn't end until summer, sir,"

"Hmm…summer. Alright, then. This summer you're traveling to Hoenn, going to get your starter pokémon, and that settles it," he says matter-of-factly. "Until then," he looks around suddenly as if not wanting to be caught in the middle of something, "I want you to look after this little fellow for me," he says, holding out a small pokéball.

I take the pokeball gingerly in both hands and can only stare at it in amazement as the captain prattles on; "Anyone crazy enough to try and kill me with a pocketknife is admired enough to keep close tabs on. If you should get into any trouble, say with pesky thieves, this bagon will be more than happy to be of assistance to you. I'm trusting that you'll take fine care of him for me."

I'm so overwhelmed by all of this, Uncle Drake's sudden visit, the challenge, and now this! A pokémon! I'll treat Uncle Drake's bagon as if it were my own, and I promise him so, while stuttering out my thanks. He waves aside my gratitude with an air of impatience as he swaggers down the stairway and out the front door, summons a blue behemoth dragon pokémon with crimson leather-like wings, and mounts it, before taking to the skies.

In a belated rush I remember why I wanted to stay awake in the first place and call out to him, "Uncle Drake! Who won the battle? Was it you or Lance?!" but he just shakes his head and laughs and is either too far away to hear me shout or is deliberately withholding an answer. I suspect the latter.

And it is with an anxious heart that I retreat into the warmth of my home and crawl back into my recently excavated bed, too excited by the promise of a challenge issued to sleep.

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**Woohoo! You finished! First off, I want to thank you for taking time out of your day to read this. You are awesome! Okay, so maybe there were things about this first chapter that you liked, some things you didn't care for, hell, you might've hated all of it, I don't know. But remember, unless you review, I don't know that you even bothered to get this far, let alone know what it is that you liked. I'm not telepathic. So c'mon, review. You know you want to... Thanks again!**


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